


Nothing To You.

by nctlice



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, You should probably have a tissue nearby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23338480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nctlice/pseuds/nctlice
Summary: Picking up the phone was a mistake, something you didn't realize until the call connected and the sound of his weary sigh caressed your ears. But sometimes, much like shattered glass, relationships are beyond repair.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Nothing To You.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I don't recommend you read this if you're in a great mood or without tissues nearby. I do, however, recommend you listen to Girlfriend by Wonder Girls, as this song was on repeat when I jotted this down. Enjoy!

You’d known as soon as you heard Baekhyun’s voice you’d made a fatal mistake. The bottles you’d drained had liquid courage flowing through you. You had tried so very hard to forget, but with the first drink all the memories came rushing back. 

With the second cup, you could feel the ghost of his hands rubbing up and down your back when you’d had a bad day, cupping your chin before he’d say it’ll all work out. With the third, you could remember the time he’d taken you to the river, the setting sun enveloping you in as much warmth as his eyes did when he looked at you, stared into your soul. 

The fourth, fifth, and six had your heart racing, thinking of his lips tenderly marking your body like an unexplored map, and you were his treasure. You could smell him now, taste him, he was everywhere. Your senses were both heightened and muted, it just wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. 

The seventh had you doubled over in bed, your heart being crushed by an invisible force, your ears pounding as you played his final words over and over like a scratched record that no one bothered to disrupt. You begged and pleaded to yourself aloud for Baekhyun to stop, that things could work out. That’s what love was, right? Two people in such unbreakable love could figure it out. It wasn’t like you hadn’t argued before. You were both guilty of shouting until your throats were scratched and bleeding, his hair always a mess from rubbing it so frantically, begging you to calm down. It always ended when he took you in his arms and you spilled tears onto his shoulder, but he was there. He’d pull you close and murmur his sweet apologies in your ear, his rasped breath tickling your earlobe as you hiccuped your own ‘I’m sorry’s back to him. 

Baekhyun would pull you down to the bed, the couch, even the floor and into his lap, and knead your fingers between his own, his gaunt knuckles reassuring you he’d never leave. He loved you too much. 

Baekhyun loved you. 

_ He used to love you.  _

Somewhere in the three years you’d been together, that love had turned into resentment. The sweet kisses that curled your toes changed into whispered discontentment under his breath. The long hugs that released all of your tension became quick one armed clasps, a fast “I’ll see you when I get home”, and you staying up into the late hours of the night waiting for his return. And those beautiful ' I love you's, reminiscent of the first one he'd snuck under the stars with adoration in his eyes, had shifted to cold blooded comments about your puffy face he’d used to kiss and call cute, about every single thing you’d ever done wrong. 

There was no love in his voice when he said goodbye. 

It’d been weeks since that day. The day your heart shattered and he’d crushed every piece ruthlessly under his heels. It was an argument which you were quickly becoming too used to, too comfortable with. Baekhyun had come home far too late to just be getting off of work, his obsidian hair too perfectly messed up, his unkempt clothes smelling of stale cigarettes and a perfume you were certain you’d never owned. You’d questioned him as always, expecting him to blow up immediately and deny your accusations, to throw his hands up in the air and yell to the heavens about how you were being crazy again. 

But he didn’t. He looked past you into the wall. His eyes were tired, from the questions or from the day’s efforts you couldn’t tell. But he didn’t answer you, and that was the first crack in your heart. 

Immediately you’d calmed down. You’d taken a breath as your chest throbbed in worry. You silently pleaded for him to look at you. Why wouldn’t he look at you? Had you become that ugly, that grotesque that he couldn’t bare to look upon your tear splattered figure, or-

_ “This isn’t working out.” _

A moment passed before you registered his words, deafening in the tense silence of the small room. He looked at you then, and you wish he didn’t. There were no tears, and no regret displayed upon his face. The only thing you could see was resolution. You were a problem, a buzzing gnat that he couldn’t get rid of, and now he was solving it. This was the second crack. 

You’d been at a loss for words. What wasn’t working out? You wracked your brain for every answer, while skillfully skirting around the one you knew deep inside was correct. Was it the apartment? You knew it’d been a pain for him to travel back and forth into the city for work. Or maybe it was your pet allergies that had forced him to send his precious corgi, his best friend and confidant, back to his parents house where he could only visit on the weekends. In the midst of your distracted thinking, you realized he’d called your name. 

You looked up at Baekhyun, your Baekhyun, your love, your everything, confused. He’d said your name, that much was sure. But the way he said it irked you. It was without any of the soft feeling he’d usually utter it, instead replaced with animosity. He’d called your name like he’d call a stranger’s. Yet, it made sense. You were no longer lovers, no longer friends. 

You didn’t know him anymore. 

He didn’t know you either. 

Because if he did know you, he wouldn’t have continued. He would have told you what he’d been up to while you’d painstakingly waited every night for him to return to you, your darkened eyes earning worried questions from your co-workers in the morning. He wouldn’t have told you how he’d found someone else, someone better than you, prettier than you, someone that made him happier than you did. He wouldn’t have packed his bags as you petitioned him to stay, he wouldn’t have pushed you away when you wailed for him to stop hurting you. Your heart shattered into a million pieces. 

He wasn’t the Baekhyun you’d known, the one that bought you flowers on a whim, and had asked you out on your first date. No longer was he the one that let you play with his hair as he laid in your lap and fidgeted and muttered under his breath as he tried to win at a video game. No longer was he the one that grabbed your hand at any chance he could get; walking down the street, under the dinner table, near one of your male friends to make his claim on you clear. 

He wasn’t your Baekhyun anymore. 

_ He was hers now.  _

After the eight drink, you were full blown shuddering now, your hands desperately trying not to drop the phone in your hands as you dialed his number from memory. Belatedly as you put it to your ear, you distantly wondered if he’d changed it. Like he’d changed his lock screen, his Instagram pictures, and his mutual friends as he moved on from you, closed the cover of the book the two of you had written. 

It rang. It rang and rang long enough for you to wonder what the hell you were doing, for the small part of your sober mind to remember how utterly stupid you were acting. You slowly dropped the phone from your face until you stopped abruptly, just barely catching his groggy hello. 

Time stopped then. You felt the flush in your face as the echoes of his voice flooded through you, and replaced the alcohol you’d injected as your life source. You couldn’t find your voice as you dismantled your brain to find the words you’d wanted to say. 

There weren’t any of course. None of this was planned. 

He said your name then. It wasn’t the way he’d said it before, no, this was worse. It was swarming with sadness, worry, even worse, pity. You let out a choked sob as your heart started up again, now pumping with a vengeance, determined to make you feel, make you suffer. This was your punishment for your actions, for not thinking before you hurt yourself better than he ever did. 

Baekhyun sighed, as if he’d picked up his phone without discrimination, had only just looked at it to see the caller ID. You heard a rustling in the background as he presumably removed himself from his bed. What seemed like centuries later, you heard a shuffle as he replaced the phone to his ear. 

“Why are you calling. It’s four in the morning, I have to get up for work soon.”

You winced at his tone, indicating that you were that insect he’d sworn he’d smacked out of the air, only for it to buzz past his face once again. You took a deep shuddering breath and willed yourself to speak but the words were held in the confines of your shriveled lungs. 

“Is...is everything okay? Did something happen?” He asked. His voice was slightly softer now, and you wondered if the worry you swore you heard was just the alcohol implanting false lies in your mind. 

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see it. You found your words now, cheap and pathetic slipping across your parched lips. 

“I-, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Baekhyun scoffed, his annoyance ringing as clear as a bell. All traces of his tender worry long gone. He descended into a rant of pure anger, the tears you’d thought you’d emptied earlier now threatening to spill from your swollen eyes once more. 

“You can’t call me anymore. I’m with my girlfriend right now, how would it look if she heard me talking to you? Why do you only think of yourself?”

You felt it then, an equal if not more powerful rage boiling within your stomach, overtaking the disgust you’d felt for yourself. 

“I was your girlfriend, too.” You reminded him, the sober part of you tugging on your arm and attempting to get you to chalk this up as a loss, to quell your emotions and just hang up. 

But you couldn’t. Despite how ridiculous you were acting and how upset he was, you couldn’t deny that his rough hypnotic voice was the best thing you’d heard in a long time. His voice has always been your favorite thing. The way he’d sang you to sleep countless times raised the hairs on your arms, and made your lips curl. Even now, as he spat his words at you as if you were the ground he walked upon, it was too much to let go. 

_ You didn’t want to let go.  _

You heard him sigh heavily and imagined his stance. He was probably leaning on a cold wall, rubbing his feet back and forth against a carpet you hadn’t picked out. His lip was probably being worried between his teeth. You’d always told him he did that too much. In this moment, you wished you hadn’t. You wished you could take back every single negative thing you’d ever released from your mouth, and replaced it with endearing thing that’d made your heart sway and shake. You wished you’d told him more about the best parts of himself, everything he did that was perfect in your eyes. You wished you hadn’t always made a big deal out of everything. 

You wished you hadn’t of been you. 

Maybe things would be different. 

Maybe he’d still be yours. Maybe you’d still be the one lying in his arms, talking about dreams of the future. A future that included that house he’d been looking at, filled with the sounds of his music bouncing off of the walls. A future that maybe didn’t just involve the two of you, but a miniature version of him tottering around, complete with his slender fingers and his bright smile and his beautiful laugh. A future where the two of you smiled at each other’s wrinkled faces, hands still clasped, looking back at the perfectly imperfect life you’d made under the setting sun. 

_ Together.  _

Those precious dreams were now as demolished as your heart. The things you hadn’t said were obliterated by the things you did, the things you longed to take back. 

“I have to go to sleep now.” He said in a strangled anguished huff, as if he too was feeling what you did. As if the memories had hit him too, full force, as if he was wondering if he’d made the right choice. Or the wrong one. 

He said your name one last time and this one hurt the most. Within it, you heard the reflection of a past him. He said it with longing, with emotion, with regret. As he paused, you were openly crying now, your body tensed, all anger long dissipated. If he heard it, which you were sure he did, he didn’t mention it. As he exhaled, you knew he was running a weary hand through that hair you wish you could press your face into one last time. 

It was almost laughable, how you still knew him so much, and yet not at all. 

Baekhyun inhaled, his breath slightly shuddering, and whispered with palpable remorse, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Please don’t call again.”

He was gone then. The dial tone cried out as all the energy that had once flowed through you drained from a secret opening within your body. You drooped over and wailed then, the pain becoming too much to bear. You convulsed and writhed as you let it wash over you, the finality the last nail in the coffin you’d prepared for yourself. 

There was no going back. There was no fixing this. Your love was a shattered glass of which you couldn’t pick up the pieces, you couldn’t bloody your hands and tape them back together. You let the sickness infect every inch of your body, let it numb you until you were left with trembling heaves of breaths. You allowed it to lull you into a fitful sleep. 

You dreamt that night. Of two figures on an emerald hill, hands clasped. As the smiles on their faces faded, you knew it then. 

Baekhyun was a dream. He’d been a dream that you’d lived carelessly, that you took for granted. 

And now, he was _hers_. 

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic that I've posted. I wrote it years ago and it's still my favorite. I'm debating picking up writing again, so please let me know what you think. You can find me on twitter at @nctlice, yelling about nonsense.


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